Skirts Scandal
by Queenafoster
Summary: A follow up to the previously posted story "Skirts"
1. Bryce Van Buren

Bryce Van Buren

Unfortunately, Bryce Van Buren had time on his hands. He had planned to have a picnic and spend the better part of the afternoon with the lovely Audra Barkley. Regrettably, that wasn't going to happen.

After being formally introduced and seeing her at three social engagements, he had been convinced that the two of them would make a good match and might possibly have a long, productive future in front of them. In her favor, she was stunningly beautiful, an excellent conversationalist, and the only daughter of the wealthiest family in the San Joaquin Valley. Really, what more could he ask for?

Now, in hindsight, he supposed he should have been more specific in his list of requirements. She had shown up today at the Van Buren ranch dressed like...well...like a cow hand! He had been flabbergasted. From his limited time with her, he could not possibly have guessed that she was such a hoyden. He had been so stunned by her appearance that he had been rendered practically speechless. However, in retrospect, he realized that he probably could have reacted better.

Ah well, his mother and Catherine had explained the reality of the situation to Miss Barkley and seen her on her way. But he could not tear his eyes from the window when he saw her mount her horse. She rode astride! His friends back east would have been astonished. No woman in good society would behave in such a masculine manner, at least not if she expected to continue to be received. A woman astride a horse may as well lie with a man without benefit of marriage; she would be outcast just the same.

And to think he almost began courting her! At this point, he considered it a close shave on his part and resolved to be more careful. His entire future could be affected by his choice of wife. A lady from a well-connected family could very much influence his career. As he had been thinking standing for office, a marriage partner of local stature would be a step in the right direction. And if she was also beautiful and congenial, she could very much be a support to him when he made it to Washington City. One could only think of where James Madison would have been without his wife, Dolley. Of course, there was also the example of Lincoln's union with Mary Todd. That demonstrated that the lady could also be a hindrance as well, so he needed to be careful in his choice.

Well, thankfully, he had avoided that error with Miss Barkley. What a close call it had been.


	2. America Rosenyk

America Rosenyk

The pastor's sermon had been a bit dry this morning, and America was anxious for the service to be over. As soon as he finished, she began making her way towards the door. Audra had gone on a picnic with Bryce Van Buren yesterday, and America was anxious to find out how it went. He was _so_ handsome and engaging. Of course, Audra was beautiful inside and out—it was no wonder Bryce was taken with her.

Nodding to several friends and acquaintances on her way through the crowd, she finally made it to Audra's side. "Well, how did it go?"

Audra turned quickly, "Ami! How are you?"

America rolled her eyes and hugged her friend, "I'm fine. How are you? All the niceties are covered. How did it go?"

Audra blinked at her, "How did what go?"

"Audra! Your picnic with Bryce?"

Audra looked around, waving to friends she hadn't seen for a few days. America took the moment to notice Audra's handsome brothers before her friend answered quietly, "Oh, that. Well, we didn't go."

America gasped in sympathy. "Oh, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

Audra shrugged a bit. "Well, it was just one of those things. We couldn't get it worked out."

America felt sympathy for Audra who had been quite excited about the picnic in the days leading up to it. "Perhaps you'll go another time?"

Audra shook her head, "I don't think so. Mother and I are leaving with Jarrod in the morning for San Francisco. I'm going to look for books for the orphanage, and I might find time to stop in a dress shop or two. But I'm not really sure when we're coming back, so it's hard to make any definite plans."

America gave a little stomp with her foot. "How disappointing."

Audra gave another small shrug. "Well, you know, maybe it's not supposed to happen. I prob—"

Just then, Audra's good looking brother, Heath, came up behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders. "You about ready to go, Sis?"

"I'll be right there." She turned back. "I've got to go, Ami. Have a great week. Or two. I'll see you when I get back, and we'll talk then. I love you." She kissed America on the cheek and turned to get in her family's buggy.

America watched her go. Something seemed off about Audra today. Maybe it was just her disappointment about the picnic.


	3. Abigail Van Buren

Abigail Van Buren

On Monday morning, Abigail and Catherine Van Buren went into town to shop. After what was, for them, a very trying and unproductive day, they were in the carriage on their way home. Catherine took a deep breath and slowly let it out, her frustration evident.

Abigail patted her daughter's hand in sympathy. "I know, dear. I understand."

"This place is so absurd. If we had to move west, why couldn't we settle in a more civilized city like San Francisco? Or any _city_ at all!"

"Darling, you know your father always wanted to try his hand at ranching. Ever since the first dime novels and newspaper stories began telling of western adventure and the glories of ranching, he's wanted to have a go at it. And this is a growing town that would likely welcome new investment from a former banker."

"And whatever Papa wants..." came the sarcastic reply from Catherine.

"It's not _always_ what Papa wants; you are aware of that. Sometimes he just doesn't yet know what he wants."

"Well, do you think he wants his wife and daughter to go around this backwater looking like old dust rags? The dress shops here are at least a year behind in their designs. And in some cases two years." Catherine turned on her best pleading look, "Mother, I want to go shopping in San Francisco. Please say yes."

Abigail smiled sympathetically, "I know, dear. And it's an excellent idea, but I'm going to need some time to persuade your father. We can't just go because we wish it. And we'll have to secure funds first. The bank will need to know where we're going."

"All right. So you need to talk Papa into it." She paused, then asked, "How exactly will you do that?"

Abigail glanced at her daughter and smiled, "Wondering how you'll manage such things when you get married? Well, every man is different, and you'll probably have to try a few techniques to find which he responds to best."

Catherine looked intrigued, "Such as..."

Abigail shook her head fondly. "Oh, don't give me that. You've got your father, your brother, and even me—on occasion—wrapped around your little finger, and you know it. For your father, crying seems to work quite well for you...though that never worked very well for me in his books. For some men, it's whining a bit. Others respond best to nagging. For some, it's screaming."

Catherine looked at her mother shrewdly. "But none of those work with Papa, do they? How do you approach him when you really want something...like you and me shopping in San Francisco?"

Abigail took a deep breath and bounced her eye brows in concession. "All right, here's what I find works best with your father. I present myself as a lady with an _unsolvable_ problem. I become very distressed and demonstrate all the various issues that make the situation so difficult, and I need him to help me figure out the best answer. The trick is to present it to him in such a way that the solution is obvious. I just need him to arrive at the same result independently, and he then gives me exactly I wanted in the first place."

Catherine nodded at her mother's wisdom. "That's nicely done. So if you report to him that the local shops are desperately behind the fashion in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, and that when I—I mean _we_ —go back east to visit relatives, we're going to be seen as down trodden and pathetic. Well, just _imagine_ our embarrassment. Why, we're going to be unable to go to any parties at all because we'll only get looks of pity and remorse. Then he'll conclude that you and I need to go shopping, but it must be somewhere _nearby_ where the designs are more current. And the obvious choice will be San Francisco. Is that how it will work?"

Her mother nodded approvingly, "Something quite like that, I'm sure."

Catherine smiled at her mother's ingenuity. Then she shook her head. "I saw America Rosenyk at the dry goods shop, and she mentioned that Audra Barkley and her mother left on the morning train with her oldest brother, heading for San Francisco."

Abigail glanced at her askance. "Oh, Catherine, I do wish you wouldn't spend time with that girl. Rosenyk? What kind of name is that? Where's her father from? And frankly, I don't think it will do your reputation any good to be seen with a shop girl."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Mother, America isn't a shop girl. Her father owns that store."

"Doesn't she work the counter on occasion? Her father certainly does."

"That isn't the point. The point is that Audra Barkley went to San Francisco with her mother and brother!"

"Is that what's got you all hot and bothered about going? Because Audra Barkley went?"

"You know that's not it. Although she does have very nice fashion sense when she cares to follow it. When we've seen her at parties and church, she always looks impeccable."

"But..." her mother left the question hanging.

"But. Who would have thought she would show up Saturday morning looking like a ranch hand? I've never been more shocked."

Abigail breathed a laugh. "Not as shocked as your brother."

"Well, really, who could blame him? He was expecting a young lady."

Abigail shook her head with regret. "I just cannot imagine what her mother was thinking."

Catherine expelled a short breath, "And where did she learn to ride like that? Does she have no concern for how people see her?"

"Apparently not. Although she seems quite popular with other young people at all the parties we've attended."

"Perhaps it's just a recent development in her personality. And after Bryce's rejection, she and her mother have gone to San Francisco to avoid the uproar her behavior will raise among the gossips in town. Plus, they can use the time away to reshape her image. She is certainly going to need it if she expects to find a young man to court her."

Abigail patted her daughter's leg. "As long as we don't sully your reputation by such indecent behavior. And that your brother is able to secure an adequate wife for his ambitions. You know he's much more likely to be elected to office here in California than back home. There are so many candidates there, whereas here, his qualities will outshine most of these commoners."

"That's another reason Papa wanted to move here, isn't it? To give Bryce a place where he can stand out?"

Abigail nodded and pondered that a moment. "Actually there's probably only one or two local men that could produce any serious competition for Bryce, one being Audra's oldest brother. Do you remember his name?"

"Jarrod. He's an attorney."

Abigail nodded. "He's the age and has the education and background to stand for election. And he's quite good looking which would be to his advantage."

Catherine nodded as well. "And of course, they have one of the largest ranches in the state. He also has an office in San Francisco, so he's developing a reputation statewide as well."

Abigail aimed an expectant look at her daughter who affected innocence. "Not that this would make him any more attractive to you, Miss. An eligible, handsome, _wealthy_ young attorney who practices in Stockton _and_ San Francisco would seem like a perfect match for you, wouldn't he?"

Catherine looked away modestly. "Why, Mother, I don't know what you're talking about."

Abigail gave a soft laugh. "Don't try that with me, young lady. I know you. And your preferences. But you just remember that his sister made a fool of herself on Saturday. She has no standards when it comes to her reputation. If that's _her_ attitude, what does it say for her brother?"

"We don't know what it says about Jarrod Barkley, but it's certainly worth finding out. His other qualities should make him good husband material."

"We'll see about that. And just you remember your place and let your father make any decisions about possible suitors. "

"And about whether we can go shopping in San Francisco?"

Her mother smiled. "That, too."


	4. Andrew Cope

Andrew Cope

Coming into the Silver Slipper, Andrew looked around to see who else might be in town. He smiled when he saw Corum Hazen at the bar with the new fellow, Bryce Van Buren. Walking up to them, he motioned for a beer. "Afternoon, boys. How's everything?"

Corum worked for his father at the train station. "Hey, Andy. What brings you to town?"

"Been a long day counting calves. My backside's sore, but Ma's been waiting on a package, so she sent me in to see if it arrived."

Corum winced in sympathy. "Sorry, no packages for the Copes today."

Andrew let out a deep sigh. "So I just found out from your pop." He turned to Van Buren. "How you doing?"

Bryce shrugged. "Fine. Can't complain."

Corum glanced around Bryce at Andrew. "I was just about to ask Bryce about his date with the lovely Miss Barkley."

Andrew sucked in a breath. "Oh, yeah; how'd it go, Van Buren?"

Bryce waved it off. "It didn't."

Corum blinked. "What do you mean, _'it didn't_?"

Bryce shrugged. "I cancelled it."

Andrew glanced at Corum in shock. "You cancelled? Good god, man, whatever for?"

Bryce chuffed a little laugh. "She's a completely inappropriate companion. Someone might have warned me, you know."

Andrew looked at Corum in surprise and doubt and saw his own feelings reflected by his friend. "Inappropriate? What are you talking about?"

Bryce looked at them both in disbelief. "You're both local. Surely you know what I'm saying. And truly, I don't appreciate that you all tried to make me a laughing stock."

Another glance at Corum made clear that he had no idea what Van Buren was going on about either.

Corum spoke up. "Maybe you better tell us what happened, Bryce."

Andrew listened in growing surprise as Bryce laid out the events of the previous Saturday when Audra Barkley showed up for the picnic. And Bryce's dismay at her _attire_ and _method of transportation_. When he finished his story, Andrew looked at Corum, back at Bryce, and then the two old friends turned back to the bar and tried to keep from laughing as it was clear that Bryce was quite serious. Andrew thought he had himself under control when Corum snorted a laugh into his beer, and the spray went all over the bar which caused Andrew to burst out as well.

Standing between them, Bryce got huffy. "Well, thank you both for making light of my quandary."

Corum had almost got himself under control, but that statement sent him into gales of laughter, which only made it worse for Andrew. Finally, Corum looked at Bryce. "Van Buren, you're an idiot."

"I _beg_ your pardon!"

Andrew nodded. "He's right. You're an idiot."

Bryce glared back and forth at them. "Well, I'd like to know how you came to that conclusion."

Corum eyed Andrew in amusement. "You have a date—completely alone and unchaperoned—with one of the sweetest, prettiest girls in the whole valley, and you break it because of what she's wearing?"

Andrew piped up, "Don't forget how she was riding her horse, Core."

Corum nodded sagely, "Right. And because she sat astride her horse."

Bryce was quite put out. "She adequately demonstrated that she was no _lady_."

Corum reached up to wipe the amusement from his mouth and attempted to help Van Buren. "Look, I know you're not from around here, and customs may be different, but you really need to look at the bigger picture, Bryce."

"I certainly don't know what you're talking about, fellows."

Corum looked away, still trying to keep from laughing. "Andy, you take over."

Andrew let out a deep breath. "All right, let me try to explain." Bryce tried to interject, but Andy overrode him. "Stockton is not a big city. We're a decent sized town in California which is really the back end of beyond to people from the east. And a pretty fair portion of our folks live out in the country. Like my family. Our ranch is six miles outside of town."

Corum piped up, "And the Barkley ranch is even further."

Andy resumed, "Your place is what? Seven, eight miles away?"

Bryce appeared puzzled. "About that, I suppose. How does that factor into the issue?"

Andy continued, "And you and your father are new to ranching?"

Bryce nodded. "Yes. He was a banker before we moved here."

Andrew hadn't known that. Explained the Van Buren money. "Well, if you stay in the ranching business, you'll learn that there are times when work on the ranch is overwhelming. And when that happens, everyone on the place pitches in."

Bryce shrugged. "Well, of course."

Andrew looked at Corum who shook his head. "He's not getting it."

Bryce sputtered, "Not getting what? Please make yourselves plain and quit playing these games with me. I'll not stand for it."

Andrew wondered what Bryce would do if they continued _playing games_. "You won't stand for it? Really? Listen to me when I say that _everyone_ pitches in—hands, owners, kids, women— _everyone_."

"Stop jesting with me."

Andrew eyed Corum. "He really is an idiot." He turned back to Bryce. "I'm not 'jesting.' _Everyone_ gets out there to get the work done. To get the hay in before it rains. To get the crops picked before they rot. To get the roundup complete before the branding is done before it's time to get the cattle to market. _Whatever_ it is. Sometimes on a ranch, _everyone_ does the work. Especially on a ranch as big as the Barkley spread."

Bryce blinked, "You're serious?"

"Sure, I'm serious. My mother and sister have both been out there with me and Pa at times. And if you think they're wearing frilly, flouncy dresses and riding side saddle, you better think again!"

After a brief pause, Corum took up the case, "On a different note, did you bother to mention to Miss Barkley where you were taking her on this picnic?"

Bryce looked back around to him. "Well, no, I don't believe I did."

"So for all she knew, you might take her hiking up a mountain or wading through a creek."

"Oh, hardly."

Andrew glared at him. "You didn't tell her different."

"No gentleman would take a lady any such place."

Corum pursed his lips and stared into his beer. "I took Lucy Middleton to the top of Montpelier Hill this past spring. It was beautiful. Ain't no buggy made that could make it up that hill."

Andrew shrugged. "I took Jency Napier out to Miriam's Meadow last month. And it started raining, and before we could get back across Little Creek, it swolled up something fierce. We had to swim our horses back across. I tell you, we were a sight. Her mother was in a fright when we got back, but after she calmed down, we all had a big laugh...especially when her mother made me strip down and put on some of her brother's clothes—which were too small. Talk about a laughing stock... Her father sees me now and just starts chuckling. But I think the whole situation made Jency a bit fonder of me." He couldn't help grinning at the memory.

Bryce kept glancing back and forth between Andrew and Corum. Corum spoke up, "We're not funning you. This is big country out here. Even a girl has to be prepared for what might happen."

Andrew spoke up, "What we're saying is that she dressed for what she knew of the day you had planned. And honestly, most of the girls from ranches around these parts ride astride. We don't even own a side saddle at the Running C."

Corum turned the conversation back to the picnic that never happened. "So what was Audra's response when you broke your date?"

Bryce looked down at the bar for a minute. "Well, as it happened, my mother and sister came upon us at that point."

Andrew eyed Corum. That didn't sound quite...right. "Uh huh. And? What did Audra say?"

Bryce shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, really, what could she say?"

Corum interjected, "Wait a minute. You tell her she isn't a lady because of what she's wearing and for riding a horse in an unladylike manner, and she just walks away without a peep? That's not the Audra Barkley I know."

Bryce looked at Corum like he was the imbecile. "I didn't just come right out and say it like that. I made my apologies and excused myself. My mother and sister spoke to her briefly, and then she left."

Andrew met Corum's speculative glance, and they both turned back to Bryce. "So…you see Audra, tell her you can't take her on the picnic, and leave your mother and sister to explain why. Is that what happened?"

Bryce shook his head in disgust. "You two are a couple of children."

Corum shook his head. "He's not denying it, Andy. That's _exactly_ what happened."

Andrew turned back to the bar and shook his head in amazement. He motioned to the bartender for another round. After they arrived, he walked his companions to a nearby table and, after sitting down, turned back to Bryce. "Have we mentioned that you're an idiot? Do you know how many brothers Audra has?"

Bryce had been sipping his beer and ignoring them, but this question made him swallow quickly and look back to his companions. "No. I don't... I don't think so. Seems I may have met _one_. How many are there?"

Corum found the foam in his glass absorbingly interesting. "Four. Three older and one younger."

Andrew nodded. "Great big strong fellows they are, too."

Bryce continued to look back and forth between them. Corum shook his head. "Not joshing you. Four."

Andrew leaned into Bryce's ear and whispered, "Big."

Bryce looked back at Andrew who was now literally in his face. "You're saying I should be concerned because they will feel that I insulted their sister."

Corum picked it back up, "If you'd treated my sister like that, I'd be coming after you with a branding iron."

Andrew seconded that, "Me, too."

In the middle, Bryce folded his arms defensively and let out a deep breath. "So tell me about these big, scary brothers so I can prepare myself."

Andrew loved how he and Corum were tossing the conversation back and forth, forcing Bryce to swing his head from one side to the other. This guy was a complete jack ass. How had they not already realized this? Sure, he was rich and good-looking, but he was a moron.

Corum's voice had a teasing, jocular quality as he started in, "Well, the oldest is Jarrod. He's a lawyer, but don't let that fool you. I've been around when he's mixed it up with some of the boys. And he doesn't back down from anyone or anything."

Andrew threw out his take, "Smart as a whip is Jarrod. But he'll get out and work the ranch just like anyone when they need him."

"And people here really respect him. He's gone to Sacramento to fight for folks when the government or the railroad was coming after us. He's taken unpopular positions because it's the law or just because he thinks it's the right thing to do. He's got integrity. I wouldn't want to tangle with Jarrod Barkley, that's for sure. He's a man to be reckoned with."

Bryce appeared to be thinking on this, but Andrew didn't give him much time to square that away. "And then there's Nick Barkley." Corum snickered maliciously to add to Bryce's torment as Andrew continued. "Nick is the toughest son of a gun in the whole valley."

Corum eyed Bryce and appeared to study him. "Two of you put together might make one Nick. Maybe."

Andrew shook his head. They were laying it on thick. "Nick runs the ranch. And it ticks along and goes like clockwork because he makes it happen that way."

Corum appeared to be thinking, "And he's built kind of like...a...what? A brick wall?"

Andrew nodded. "That's a pretty good description. Core, have you ever been in a fight with Nick?"

Corum snickered. "No and I don't plan to if I can help it. But I was there when he got into it with the Tacketts. I never saw nothing like it."

Andrew looked at Bryce. "There were three of them Tacketts...Ephraim, Ernest, and Eggbert. They were miners. Great big boys, too. Nick mopped the floor with them. All. By. Himself."

Corum kept up the pressure, "I never saw anyone who likes to fight more than Nick."

Andrew shook his head in sympathy. "Me neither."

Bryce was beginning to look a bit gray, but he tried to soldier on. "All right. So the oldest is going to smart me to death, and this Nick person is going to use me for a mop. What about giant number three?"

Andrew eyed Corum who gave the same back to him. Neither of them knew where to start with that one. Corum began, "That would be Heath."

"Yeah. Heath."

Bryce picked up on their reticence. "Heath? What? You two are having quite a bit of fun with this. Just come on out with it."

Andrew shrugged. "Well, Heath's a bit different. He's... Core, how should we phrase this for his delicate ears?"

Corum let out a sigh. "I think we should just say it."

Andrew pursed his lips. He dropped the volume of his voice considerably and removed all the kidding. "Heath is old man Barkley's back woods colt."

Bryce just stared at them, "I have no idea what that means. Sirs, please make yourselves plain."

Corum looked around briefly, then he also lowered his voice, "He's illegitimate."

That startled Bryce. "What? You're not serious."

Andrew nodded. "Yep."

Bryce looked like he still didn't believe them, so Corum continued, "Tom Barkley was his father, but Mrs. Barkley isn't his mother. The family didn't know anything about him till the last year or so, long after the old man was dead and buried."

Bryce folded his arms again and shook his head. "You're having me on. If I had known such tales existed about her family, I never would have asked to escort her in the first place."

Andrew and Corum both shook their heads. Corum answered him, "We're not kidding. You can ask anyone in town, and they'll tell you the same thing. But I'd ask it on the sly if I was you. The Barkleys don't truck with running down the newest member of the family."

Andrew shrugged. "Funny thing is, that kind of talk doesn't bother Heath much—just the rest of the family. He told me once that he grew up with it, and it's like water off a duck's back to him. He's just sorry the rest of the family has to deal with it now."

Bryce looked like he was beginning to believe them. "You expect me to believe that the wealthiest family in the valley took in the father's... _illegitimate_...son without a by-your-leave?"

Corum glanced around. "Well, knowing Nick, I imagine there was quite a bit of by-your-leave, but they did decide to take him in. And now, they'll all fight tooth and nail to prove he's just as good any of the rest of them."

Bryce chuffed a laugh, still in half disbelief. "And what, _exactly_ , do I need to be concerned about with this...by-blow?"

Andrew rolled his eyes. Van Buren was just looking to get creamed by one of Nick Barkley's haymakers. Whatever. He and Corum restarted the back-and-forth conversation again. "Well, Heath isn't as big as Nick—"

"But he's just as tough."

"And he's not as loud as Nick—"

"But it's the quiet ones you have to worry about."

"And if you're gonna be in a fight, make sure you're on his side."

"Amen, Brother!"

Bryce let out a deep sigh. He was apparently getting tired of the 'pep-talk'.

Andrew looked at him seriously. "Nick is a tough old strip of leather on his own. Nick and Heath together are damn near unbeatable. And if Jarrod jumps in there with them, you're dead to rights. All kidding aside."

Bryce took another deep breath. "Let's just get this over with. Tell me about brother number four."

Corum nodded, knowing the fun was almost over. "That's Eugene, and you lucked out there. He's at Berkley, going to school. I think he wants to be a doctor. Or is he studying law like Jarrod?"

Andrew shook his head and shrugged. "I'm not sure. He and Audra are tight though. Close in age, grew up together. Lucky for you, he's away right now, so you might not think you need to worry about him, but he's a scrapper. I've known him to throw it right up to Nick even. Nick usually just squashes him, but Gene always comes back for more. He's a fighter, that one," Andrew laughed, "just like all the rest of them."

Corum shook his head, "I think you've really put your foot in it, Van Buren. You asked out the prettiest girl in the valley and then insulted her. You're an idiot."

At that point, Corum looked at the door as some customers parted to let newcomers in. His eyes widened, "Uh oh."

Andrew turned to look and saw Nick and Heath Barkley come in. Bryce glanced at Andrew and Corum, no doubt picking up on their tension and looked at where their attention now centered.

Nick and Heath headed to the bar and got a couple of beers. They made short work of them, slammed the empty glasses down simultaneously, and turned to look at the rest of the room. Seeing Andrew and Corum, they made their way over to their table.

"Howdy, boys!" Nick piped up. "Mind if we join you?"

Andrew quickly glanced at his companions. "No, course not. Nick, Heath, how are things out at your place?" Bryce quickly turned a rather brilliant shade of green.

Nick and Heath pulled empty chairs from a nearby table and squeezed in on either side of Bryce Van Buren, crowding him between them. Nick answered for them both, "Oh, fine. How about you?"

"Good. We're all good."

Heath spoke up, "Cory, how're you?"

Corum nodded genially, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Fine, fine. Things're always busy at the station."

Nick picked up again, "Sure, they are. As the town grows, that's only going to get worse. But that's good for you, right?"

Corum nodded. "Sure is."

Heath started again, "Andy, how're your folks? Wasn't your mother feeling poorly a while ago?"

"Oh, Ma's over that. She was down in her back; you know how that can be. Took a while, but she's better now. How's your family?"

Nick piped up again, "They're fine. Course, everyone's off in San Francisco. Me and Heath're out at the ranch by ourselves. I tell you, eating with just Silent Sam here can make for pretty dull dinner conversation. But I'll manage till everyone else gets back home."

At that point, Nick and Heath both turned to nail Bryce in their sights. One tall Barkley on either side made Bryce seem kind of puny, and he looked like he was trying to become smaller by the minute. Leaning in toward him, Nick speared Bryce. "Aren't you that Van Buren popinjay?"

Bryce's head snapped up, "I _beg_ your pardon."

Andrew hoped that Bryce treaded lightly as Nick's voice was smoldering with banked anger. "Weren't you supposed to escort our sister on a picnic this past weekend?"

"Yes, but unfortunately, unforeseeable circumstances made that impossible. I explained that to Miss Barkley."

Nick looked around the table and sent a challenge to everyone present except his brother to whom he addressed the next comment. "Heath, you know what I hate?"

Heath's eyes never left Bryce Van Buren, and his voice sent a shiver through Andrew. "What's that, Nick?"

"I hate a liar. 'Unforeseeable circumstances made that impossible.' _He_ decided our sister wasn't good enough for him, but he makes it sound like it was completely out of his hands."

Bryce started sputtering, and Andrew was silently sending signals to keep his yap shut. If he didn't, Nick was going to shut it for him.

But Heath's icy voice overrode Bryce's feeble complaints, "You know what I hate, Nick?"

"What's that, Heath?"

"I hate a coward. Feller who lets a girl down and then hides behind his mother's and sister's skirts while they make excuses for him…not much of a man."

Bryce wisely shut it down and seethed quietly. Andrew let out a deep breath. They might avoid destroying the bar if Van Buren kept silent.

Nick agreed. "You're right, Heath. Coward might be worse than a liar. But when you got one idiot with both qualities in spades, that fellow is a pretty sad excuse for a man. And let me make one thing clear to you, Mr. Van Buren. You make sure that the next time you plan to escort a young lady, you ask her father or guardian for permission. Because it seems to me you missed that step when you planned your picnic with our sister. Certainly, no _gentleman_ would ever court a young lady without asking her family's permission. Would he?"

Bryce looked at Corum and Andrew and saw no support from either of them, then without a glance at either Barkley bearing down on him, he conceded. "You are right, Mr. Barkley. I did neglect to follow correct etiquette. Thank you for pointing out my error. I do apologize. Please extend my apologies to your family and, of course, to your sister."

Nick nodded and eyed his brother. They'd gotten their message across. He turned to Andrew and Corum. "See ya later, boys."

Heath nodded and tossed them a salute and then the Barkleys left the saloon.

Around their table, it seemed very quiet, and Andrew assumed most of the assembled had overheard the conversation. He and Corum eyed each other and then Bryce Van Buren. They each stood, but Van Buren wouldn't raise his eyes to look at either of them. Andrew didn't blame him one bit. Pretty much everyone in the bar had gotten the Barkleys' message. "Well, I gotta get back to the ranch. See ya, Core." He turned and headed out as he heard Corum following behind him.

"Bye, Andy."


	5. Alden Webster

Alden Webster

Alden Webster was sitting at his desk in the bank that he and his father had founded soon after they moved to the San Joaquin Valley in 1850. His father had passed on in '68, and Alden had continued running it as his father had always hoped he would.

Recently though, he had been considering taking on a partner. His own son, Merrick, was of age, but he didn't enjoy the banking trade as Alden always had. Merrick did the work and did it well, but Alden didn't want to saddle is son with a business he didn't really want. So when Alden was approached about a partnership from outside the family, he had not dismissed the idea out of hand. However...

Just then, one of the clerks walked up and told him the potential partner was there to see him. Alden stood, pulled down his vest, and reached for his suit coat. He shot his cuffs and looked up as Millard Van Buren reached out to shake hands.

"Mr. Webster. Good of you to see me."

"Mr. Van Buren. How are you?"

"I'm well. Thank you for asking."

"Won't you have a seat? What brings you in today?"

"Well, I know we didn't finalize a date when you would have a decision about taking me on as partner in this fine institution, but I just thought I'd check in with you."

After taking time to reseat himself, Alden pursed his lips and studied his folded hands. "Well…yes. I've done quite a bit of thinking and discussed the situation with my family. It's a difficult decision."

Van Buren nodded sagely. "Yes, I do agree whole heartedly. It was a similar choice when I decided to leave our lives back east and move here. But something inside always kept pushing me on. I couldn't be satisfied with the safety and reliability of our lives there. I had just had to answer that call."

Alden nodded. "I was a much younger man when we moved here with my parents in '50. We all wanted a new life in a new country. That's what this place was then. When I think about how the town has grown since, it leaves me speechless. There were just a few scattered families then. Some are still here, others have moved away. Only a couple of decades have passed, but the country has changed quite dramatically."

Van Buren chuffed a small laugh. "When we were young men...but we're not old, are we? I've just moved across the country. And you're still young enough to conquer all sorts of challenges. Of course, you couldn't be tied to the bank every day if that's in your plans."

Alden nodded briefly, "No, a bank needs a steady hand for day to day operations. I certainly know that. Been here half my life now."

Van Buren bobbed sympathetically, "And isn't it time you got on with the rest of it? If you had a partner to take some of the responsibility, you could do that."

"I've thought of little else since our discussions began. But since we're on the topic, I have a question. You moved to California to get away from a settled life and start fresh with a cattle ranch. So, why do you want to get back into banking?"

"Well, honestly, my son played a part in the idea. He's getting to be a young man now, and we need to plan for his future. He loves the ranch, of course, just like me, but I can see that if we work together every day that we will butt heads over insignificant issues. If I have an outside interest—like this bank—then one of us can work the ranch and the other can manage things here. And we can switch off as the situation requires. This will enable us to work together—and separately—to achieve a nice balance. Not to mention, I've always been involved in my community. Being a partner in an institution like this—one that has such a long and established history—will enable me to continue that."

Alden nodded with understanding. "Yes, I see." He paused, then, "But after long consideration, I've decided not to take on a partner right now. You'll need to find another way to involve yourself in the community."

Van Buren's genial face became dismayed. "But why? I thought we had reached an understanding."

Alden shrugged slightly, "Well, it all started with your son's picnic."

Millard Van Buren blinked, "I beg your pardon? What does he have to do with this?"

Alden's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Surely you're aware that your son courted Audra Barkley?"

Van Buren continued to look bewildered, "Well. Yes. I do recall that being mentioned at the dinner table last week."

Alden composed himself resolutely. "We were speaking moments ago of the families in this valley when my father and I started the bank. The Barkleys were among them. Tom Barkley was one of our first customers, and the family maintains those accounts to this day.

"Your son, Bryce, invited Tom's daughter, Audra, for a picnic, and but he stood her up when she didn't meet his standards. Then he sent his mother and sister to break the news to her. Now I'll admit I'm somewhat old fashioned, but that type of behavior didn't sit well with me. Even if she hadn't been the daughter of a man I respected and called friend, I would have found your son's manners appalling.

"So, when I heard about his conduct, I began to wonder about yours."

Van Buren pulled himself up short. "Me? Sir, I object!"

Alden continued, "And I'm sorry about that, but there it is. I began to consider that old saying about apples and trees."

Van Buren appeared incensed. "Mr. Webster—"

Alden rode roughshod over his interruption. "After all, I have responsibilities to the people who have entrusted me with their money. So I did some checking and made inquiries…back east. I should have done so as soon as we began our discussions, but you seemed quite genuine and honorable. I put it off. Regardless of that error, I have investigated now. And that is the end of it."

Van Buren quit sputtering and coolly lifted his head in inquiry. "What did you find out?"

Alden gazed at the man calmly. "I'm sure you know."

Van Buren continued to sit and did not answer.

Alden nodded once. "Very well. I found that the bank you owned went bankrupt. There was talk about poor investments resulting in a run on the bank in which many customers lost their savings, and it went bust. Learning that information, it made me wonder where you got the money to buy your ranch. You must not have had your own funds in that bank. Or you made sure that you got yours out over the interests of your customers." He paused to let his next statement sink in. "Or perhaps your bank's poor investments were not really investments."

Van Buren took a sharp breath and his eyes blazed. "You have no proof of any such thing because none of it is true."

Alden's eyes shot open in surprise. "None of it?"

"If you breathe a word of such accusations, I'll sue you for slander!"

Alden looked around the bank. His staff and the customers in the bank were noticing that Van Buren's rather shrill voice had risen in volume. "You might want to keep your voice down if you don't want this to be common knowledge. I've not discussed this information with anyone, nor do I intend to. But I will say that people will wonder why I declined to bring you in as partner. They won't be able to stop themselves. I won't have to say anything for speculation to start." Alden stood up. "And I believe that will conclude our business. Good day to you, Mr. Van Buren."

Van Buren looked like he'd swallowed something very foul tasting as he stood up. "Webster." He stormed out of the bank without a word to anyone else.

Alden watched him go. If the man wanted to prevent gossip, then he would need to find a better way to hide his anger. Stomping out of a meeting with the owner of the bank was no way to keep rumors from starting.

Merrick came over from his desk on the other side of the room. "Was that Mr. Van Buren, Pa?"

Alden looked at his son fondly, "Yes, Son. I'm sorry, but I just told him he was not going to be a partner here."

Merrick looked at him without accusation. "You were only considering it because of me, weren't you?"

Alden conceded, "That was the primary reason, yes."

Merrick nodded. "I figured. Don't worry about it. We'll figure something out if I decide to strike out on my own. But I'm glad you turned him down."

Alden looked at him curiously, "I thought you might be upset."

Merrick shook his head. "Did you hear how his son treated Audra Barkley? And then sent his mother and sister out to deal with her? Bryce Van Buren's a cretin. And I reckon he's his father's son, isn't he?"

Alden smiled at him. "Yes, I suppose he is. Just as you are mine. And I'm very proud of you. Even if you do decide to leave me in the lurch."

Merrick laughed. " _If_ I decide to leave, there are other people who might come in as partner. Or we can hire a manager. Or something. We'll figure it out. _If_ I decide. _IF!_ "

Alden motioned his son back to his desk. "If, if, if! Why don't you get back to work so that _if_ you decide to leave, you'll at least be caught up. _GIT!_ "

Merrick gave a mock snarl. "Yes, sir, Pa, sir." He saluted and headed back to his desk.

Alden shook his head and laughed at his son's antics. He sat down and started back to work. But he couldn't clear his mind of the confrontation with Van Buren. He had seriously considered the partnership, and truthfully, Bryce Van Buren's treatment of Audra Barkley had made him think twice. A close shave. He normally would have pursued the investigation immediately, but the Van Burens had charmed the whole valley, himself included. He probably would have gotten around to asking about Van Buren's prior business ventures before signing any official paperwork, but still, he felt lucky. Lucky that Bryce Van Buren had been a complete cad with the daughter of an old friend.


	6. Margot Rudel

Margot Rudel

Margot wiped down the plates as she set the table. She'd had to take lessons when she was hired as a maid at the Van Buren ranch 'cause _Madame_ found Margot's abilities in table-setting lacking. The Van Burens insisted on a formal sit-down for every meal, so in the few months of her employment, Margot had become quite skilled at setting out ridiculous numbers of forks, spoons, knives, plates, and glasses. Each had its own picky little name that Margot could now rattle off whenever _Madame_ asked, but they were still just forks, spoons, knives, plates, and glasses.

Moving back into the kitchen, she tripped on her petticoats and nearly went flying. Anja, the cook, threw out a hand to catch her. "All right, Margot?"

She took a deep breath and took stock. "Yes, Anja. Thank you." Anja went back to whipping egg whites as Margot straightened the various parts of her scratchy black and white uniform. Her previous employers had required her to wear black and white but didn't insist on the frilly, starched collar, the lacey bodice and cap, and all the extra undergarments. For parties, Margot could understand all the folderol, but for every day, it seemed pretty silly. However, _Madame_ insisted. And _Madame_ was her employer.

As she set her uniform to rights, a shrill call came from the ladies' parlor. "Margaret?"

Anja laughed softly as Margot shut her eyes and sighed deeply. "I've worked here four months, and she still don't remember my name."

Anja's soft, Russian accent came through, "Ah, but she's close to Margot, no?"

"In four months, the best she can do is close? I think she misses it on purpose. Just to remind me of my station."

"You give her too much credit. You are not important to remember."

The penetrating voice called again, much more insistent, "Margaret?"

Margot plastered on a fake smile and spoke through gritted teeth. "I better go see what Her Highness wants. In case she asks, will dinner be ready precisely at seven as she has directed?"

Anja's lips twitched. "You can tell Madame it will be there when the oven and stove get it done unless she wants to eat it undercooked. I'm trying my best to get it there about seven as she asked."

Margot nodded. "Sure, that's what I'll tell her. From you to her. Right."

" _Margaret!_ "

Margot reset the fake smile and turned to answer the summons.

She found Mrs. Van Buren in the parlor playing some foolish card game and just about to call out again.

"Yes, Madame."

"Oh, Margaret, there you are. I've been calling for _ages_. What were you doing?"

"Setting the table and checking with cook, Madame."

"Oh, yes. Did you put out the rose pattern china?"

"No, Madame. You requested the green china this morning."

Mrs. Van Buren tilted her head in confusion. "Did I? I can't believe I would have asked you for the green. Please set out the rose pattern instead. It is much more elegant. The green is more of a luncheon pattern. Less formal, do you see? I'm _certain_ that I requested the rose for the evening meal."

Margot tried very hard to keep a pleasant expression on her face. She knew she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she did know the difference between 'green' and 'rose.' "I'll change the setting, Madame."

Mrs. Van Buren smiled in triumph, "Good." She paused, waiting. "Was there something else?"

Margot tried not to let her frustration show. "I'm not sure, Madame. Was that all you needed?"

"I called you? Oh, yes, I did. You can clear away the tea things."

Margot nodded and moved to replace the various and sundry pieces on the tray that were now scattered all around the parlor. How a teaspoon could end up on the mantle—so far from the tea tray—was a complete mystery. As she was working, Young Miss came bursting into the room.

" _Mother_! You're not going to believe this!"

"Catherine, do not shout. It's unbecoming." She looked up from her card game. "Now, whatever is the matter?"

"I think we've been black-balled."

"I beg your pardon. What kind of common language is that?"

"Fine, whatever. We've been ostracized. Excluded. _Dis...invited!"_

"What are you saying? Calm down and explain yourself."

Just then Margot accidently clinked a spoon. Often, she felt invisible in this household, but just as the conversation was getting interesting, she had to go and announce her presence.

Young Miss looked up, surprised. "Oh, Margot. I didn't see you standing there. You can take those things and go."

 _Madame_ looked confused. "Margot? Oh, I got your name wrong again. I am _so_ sorry."

Margot tried to keep a pleasant look on her face. "Not at all, Madame." She picked up the tray and made her way out of the room and quickly to the kitchen. Anja started to say something, but Margot set down the tray and hurried back to the hall to eavesdrop.

"...and the Neals are having a party, and we're not invited to it _either_!"

 _Madame_ was quiet for a moment. "I could believe one wayward invitation, but I find it unlikely that two would go astray so close together."

Young Miss resumed, "And I was expecting Thaddeus Shaw to call on me. He spoke to father about it weeks ago. But he's said nothing, and today he crossed the street to avoid talking to me. "

There was no immediate answer from _Madame_. When she spoke, Margot could tell she had moved over to the window. "Well, Daughter, what are we to make of this?"

"I don't know. But it seems that we've made a misstep somewhere in what this backwater calls society."

"So it would appear. Do you know what it could be?"

Through a slight gap in the velvet drapes hanging in the arched doorway, Margot could see Young Miss concentrate and finally look at her mother. "The only thing I can think of is Bryce's dismissal of Audra Barkley."

 _Madame_ sounded surprised, "Do you really think that's it?"

"I don't know, but I can't imagine anything else. There's been a...coldness?...perhaps?...since we sent her away. But I really don't know what else we could have done in that situation."

Her mother moved slowly back toward the middle of the room and into Margot's line of sight. "I suppose that could be it. These bumpkins certainly have different values than we do. It is possible they also have different expectations of proper decorum. I had hoped that we would be able to raise their standards somewhat, but it may be too much to expect from a bunch of rabble-rousers."

Miss Van Buren stomped her foot impatiently. "But what are we going to do? I can't be stuck here in the backside of California with nothing to do and nowhere to go. I noticed Jarrod Barkley is back in town, and I made sure to cross his path. A sophisticated, genteel man like him is my only hope of surviving this country village, but he barely looked at me! He said more to Widow Hopkins than he did to me, and you know what she looks like. It was like I wasn't even there! And considering how few invitations we're receiving lately, we may as well not be!"

Mrs. Van Buren let out a deep breath. "Calm yourself, Daughter. We'll talk to your father and brother about it when they get home. Don't worry, we'll come up with something. Maybe we'll have a party of our own."

Margot quietly backed away and hurried back to the kitchen. She moved past Anja to the cabinets and started pulling out the stupid rose china.

Her friend looked a question at her. "What did you hear?"

Margot leaned back toward the doorway to see if anyone was coming and walked over to whisper to Anja, "Seems the family, and Young Miss especially, isn't getting the number of invites that they're used to."

Anja bit down on a smile. "Oh, really?"

"Two parties they're gonna miss. And Young Miss isn't getting the gentlemen callers she expected."

"Isn't that sad. Because of what they did to Miss Barkley?"

Margot's voice held amusement, "That's what they think. It'd be my guess, that's for sure."

Anja agreed. "And mine. More fools them for not realizing the sway the Barkley family holds in this valley. Have you ever worked for the Barkleys?"

"For parties and such. Never anything permanent, more's the pity. They've always paid me well and treated me with kindness and respect."

"Me, also. Seem to be very good people there. But they don't need so much help, I think, because the Mrs. and Miss help with the cooking and cleaning, I hear."

Margot nodded. "I've heard that too. Don't think the Lords and Ladies Van Buren have ever considered such a thing. Still can't figure why they bought a ranch. Someone generally has to do some _work_ to keep them running. I don't think they understand that."

Anja looked at her reproachfully. "All right, that's enough of you. Get back to it before someone hears us."

Margot moved to the dishes. "I've got to change the entire table because _Madame_ forgot she told me the green china. Now she wants the rose."

Anja bounced here eyebrows in amusement and bit down on her answer. Margot got out the plates and rolled her eyes in disbelief once again.


	7. Antoinette Fillmore

Antoinette Fillmore

Looking in the mirrors of the dressing room in Miss Satterfield's dress shop, Antoinette surveyed herself impersonally. She _was_ beautiful. And she worked very hard to show off the natural attributes that God had given her. She was not too tall and had a good figure... which could be better, but that was what corsets were for. Her neck was long and slender and her hair hung down in long dark ringlets. (Of course, she spent hours with her lady's maid every night rolling up her hair so that those curls dropped perfectly the next morning.) Her nose was pert, and her lips were full. Her eyes...well, they were brown, but she supposed she couldn't have everything.

And this sweet little dress that Eve Satterfield had made for her was perfect. It showed just enough cleavage to make all the men curious and the other girls envious. Just exactly what she wanted from a dress. When she wore it to the Neal's party next week, she would be the talk of the room. Now, she just needed to decide which eligible young man should escort her...

After she was back in her own clothes, she went out front to see Miss Satterfield's clerk. She then had to tell the uninformed little nincompoop who her father was and where to send the bill. Miss Satterfield really should notify the employees about her best customers so that Antoinette could do her shopping without dealing with these mundane details. But she supposed it was possible that the dimwit clerk simply could not keep these details in her head. Antoinette had Penny pick up the packages and follow her out.

She had no sooner hit the street when she heard, "Nettie!"

She let out a deep, irritated sigh. "Matilda! I've asked you not to call me that! 'Nettie' is a child's nickname, and it makes me sound like a bumpkin. Don't call me that again, _'Tildy.'"_

Matilda stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I just forgot. I've been calling you Nettie since we were kids. It's hard to remember."

"We're not children any longer, and it's time you grew up. Now, what is it?"

"Did you get the red dress from Miss Satterfield?"

Antoinette looked at her with teasing eyes. "Yes. Why?"

"Are you wearing it to the Neal's party? Or the Colson's?"

"I've not decided. Probably whichever one Tristan escorts me to."

"Has he asked you?"

"Not yet. But he will."

Matilda looked around surreptitiously. "I wonder if Audra Barkley is going to either party."

Antoinette raised one eyebrow in irritation. "Oh, who cares about her?"

Matilda stared at her obviously. "You've always cared before. Cared what she's wearing, who she's going with, how she's fixing her hair… Need I go on?"

Antoinette looked down her nose. "Well, it's unbecoming to play games and care about such things. And I'm not going to bother anymore."

Matilda blinked her disbelief. "Sure, you're not. But at least you're not going to have to fight her for the attentions of Bryce Van Buren any longer."

Antoinette's eyes opened wide at the gossip. "When I first heard, I thought someone had finally wizened up to her little tricks, but when I got all the details, I was just glad that he hadn't asked me. His behavior was inexcusable!"

They had been walking down the boardwalk toward Antoinette's buggy when the man in question appeared right in front of them.

"Ladies. How nice to see you both."

Antoinette looked at the smile that stretched across his face and wondered that she—well, that _all_ the young ladies in the valley—had been taken in by it. Now it just looked fake. "Bryce."

"You both look lovely. Have you been shopping?"

Antoinette eyed Matilda who had a bad habit of simpering when she was amused by something. "I've been at Miss Satterfield's and ran into Matilda as I was leaving."

"I bet you didn't leave anything in the shop worth looking at."

Antoinette was unamused by his attempts to flirt. "Miss Satterfield has many lovely things, and I certainly didn't buy out the entire shop." Maybe he would get the hint.

His eyes showed a bit of confusion. "Nevertheless, I can't imagine she had anything there as lovely as you."

He did keep trying, but Antoinette was tired of the game with this particular man. After all, he had shown that he was dishonorable when he dumped Audra Barkley. Even if Audra was her sworn enemy, she was still a young lady. "Mr. Van Buren, I need to be getting home. If you'll excuse me." She turned to Matilda. "I'll see you soon."

But he wouldn't let her go. "Miss Fillmore—Antoinette, if I may. I was wondering if you might be free to accompany me on a drive Sunday after church?"

Antoinette's eyes grew sharp as she directed her glare at him. "Did you ask my father? A gentleman certainly should do so. And I've heard that a certain pair of brothers would be very displeased to find out you had asked me before speaking to my father."

Bryce Van Buren's breathing had quickened, and he looked around to see if anyone was listening to their exchange.

Antoinette continued, "Because I'm also certain that if you had asked, he would have declined. You have proven yourself to be no gentleman, and I will not associate with such a person as yourself. Please do not approach me or Matilda again. I would also suggest that you not accost any other unprotected ladies in Stockton either. We might need to notify the sheriff of your unwanted attentions. Good day."

She turned her nose up and brushed past the man who swiftly moved out of her way. As she settled herself in the buggy beside Penny, she glanced toward the street and saw that Matilda was covering her mouth in either amusement, shock, or outright laughter at Antoinette's speech. No doubt reports of their encounter would soon be all over Stockton. Bryce, on the other hand, was hurrying down the boardwalk with his shoulders hunched defensively, looking around to see if perhaps Nick or Heath Barkley was in the area. Antoinette's eyes slid over to Penny who had breathed a small laugh.

"I'd be looking for them, too. Either one of them Barkleys could clean the street with him. You didn't do so bad yourself, Miss, and your only weapon was that tart tongue of yours.

Antoinette pursed her lips to keep from laughing. "Why, Penny, I don't know what you're talking about. I just didn't want him to bother me or any other God-fearing woman."

Penny bit her lips. "After what you just did to him, I don't think that'll be a problem."


	8. Claude Selfidge

Claude Selfidge

Claude looked up from his papers as his clerk opened the office door. "Yes, Geoffrey?"

"Sir, Mr. Millard Van Buren would like to see you. What shall I tell him?"

Claude wondered what Van Buren might need. The man certainly had problems right now, but Claude didn't know that any of them might be legally pursuable. Didn't hurt to find out what he had to say though. "Send him in."

He cleared his desk as he heard Geoffrey show the man in. Claude had met him at a couple of parties. Personally, he found him to be a bit of a stuffed shirt, but no matter. He stood and held out his hand in greeting. "Mr. Van Buren. What can I do for you?"

Van Buren greeted him courteously, "Thank you for seeing me on short notice, Mr. Selfidge. I do appreciate it."

Claude nodded. "Not at all. Have a seat."

Van Buren nodded and sat in the chair opposite his desk. "Well, I've come to see if I have any legal options."

Claude let his voice hang, "Regarding...?"

Van Buren nodded once more. "I had a verbal agreement with Alden Webster about becoming a partner in his bank. He has reneged, and I wondered if I have any recourse."

Claude looked at the man carefully. "A verbal agreement? Nothing written? On anything?"

Van Buren cleared his throat. "No."

Claude's face reflected regret. "Then I'm sorry, but you have no legal standing or option."

Van Buren let out a resigned sigh. "That's what I expected you to say."

Claude looked at the man speculatively. "Have you approached any of the other bankers in town? While Webster's bank is the largest, there are several other reputable institutions."

Van Buren looked dissatisfied. "The ones that I talked to have declined."

Claude nodded. Many of their principals had discussed Van Buren's offers during poker games at the Cattlemen's Club. "Do you have sufficient funds to start your own bank? Or enough to invest so that you could take over management of another depository?"

Van Buren looked back at him in resigned resentment. "Even if I did, I don't think the citizens of Stockton would become my customers at this point. Do you?"

Claude conceded. "I find it unlikely given the present feeling."

Van Buren looked away in frustration. "Well. There it is." He let out a sigh and looked back. "What about threats that were made to my son?"

"Are you talking about Nick and Heath Barkley?"

Van Buren shook his head in defeat. "You've heard about that as well?"

"I keep my ears open. This town isn't that large. And Jarrod Barkley is a colleague. Unfortunately for you, even threats made in the company of others are not prosecutable unless they are followed up. If you decided to pursue this in civil court, you would need witnesses who would testify on your son's behalf, and my understanding is that neither Andy Cope nor Cory Hazen is in your son's corner on this matter. I believe they were the only witnesses who saw the entire exchange."

Van Buren's face demonstrated dissatisfaction.

"If you wish, I can certainly refer you to another attorney."

Van Buren's laugh was bitter. "No. There aren't that many lawyers in the area. I'm pretty sure all of them would tell me the same thing, wouldn't they?"

Claude shrugged minutely. "That's not for me to say, Sir."

Van Buren nodded. "Right. Well, thank you for your time." He stood and moved to the door of the outer office. As he fingered the knob, he turned back. "I need to discuss this with my family, of course, but if we decide to leave the area, I trust that I could engage you to sell my property?"

Claude had stood to see him out. "Certainly."

Van Buren nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Selfidge. I'll be in touch."

"Good day, Sir." He sat back down and toyed with his fountain pen. He wondered what plans the Van Burens previously had for the Valley. Leaning back in his chair, he speculated that they, no doubt, had had ambitions, but young Van Buren's faux pas with Jarrod Barkley's sister had certainly been a misstep that appeared to be unrecoverable. He hadn't heard anything definitive from Alden Webster about the aborted bank deal, but he assumed that Webster had found something unsavory in Van Buren's past business dealings. That almost felt like a victory to Claude.

He felt bad for Audra Barkley and the embarrassment she had likely suffered at Bryce Van Buren's rejection. But if that event had resulted in the denial of Millard Van Buren's plans for the Valley, then perhaps it was for the best. When next he saw Jarrod Barkley, Claude decided he would stand him for a drink.


	9. Audra Barkley

Audra Barkley

Audra let the reticule drop around her wrist as she walked out of the livery. A note from her friend, America, had been waiting when she and her mother arrived home from San Francisco the previous evening. It asked her for tea today at Miss Sally's Tea Shop and to come dressed to impress. Judging from the admiring looks from the boys at the livery and the heads turning in her direction, she had accomplished the task. America was waiting as she walked up to Miss Sally's

"Audra! You look divine! Just perfect!"

Audra started to ask the reason for the specific dress request when Miss Sally escorted them in and sat them at one of her best tables.

"Audra, I'm so glad you could come. You got home just in time."

Audra looked at her friend in curiosity. "For what?"

Her friend could hardly control her excitement. "It's a party of sorts."

One of the waitresses laid the tea and smiled at her customers very winsomely, and Audra held her tongue until she left. "What kind of 'party'?"

"Well, I really don't want to give too much away..." She was interrupted by the arrival of Antoinette Fillmore and Matilda Worth. "Antoinette, Matilda! So nice to see you. You both look lovely!"

Audra and America were approached by the two girls who both smiled. "America, Audra. How are you?"

Audra felt she was missing something in all this, so she let Ami continue. "We're good. Would you like to join us?"

Audra's eyes snapped to Ami. Her friend knew that Audra was no great favorite with either of the two girls now joining them. What on earth was she thinking?

Matilda started, "Audra, what a lovely dress. Did you get it in San Francisco?"

Knowing that her mother expected no less of her, Audra resolved to be as friendly as possible with the two girls who typically snubbed her. "Why yes, thank you. You and Antoinette are certainly dressed beautifully."

Antoinette pursed her lips. "Well, the occasion does call for it, don't you think?"

Audra looked around the table at her companions. "I'm afraid I'm still in the dark about the occasion. Ami said it was a party of sorts, but she's neglected to tell me what kind of party or where it's going to be or what we're celebrating."

All of them smiled back at her. Ami started, "Well, it's sort of a party for you. But then again, it isn't really."

Audra laughed, "All right, let me in on the joke. What's going on?"

They all continued to look at each other, drawing out the suspense. Matilda continued, "Well, you're the reason we're having it, but you're not really the guest of honor."

Audra smiled. "Very mysterious. Who is?"

Antoinette aimed what was normally an indifferent stare at Audra but today was quite friendly. "Why, the Family Van Buren."

Audra blinked in surprise. "The Van Burens are the guests of honor?"

Her companions nodded.

She looked a question specifically at Ami who could usually be trusted. "Why would I want to go to a party honoring them?"

She could hardly hold back a smile. "It's a going away party. They're leaving town! Moving, we think. And, by the way, they don't know anything about the party."

Audra felt scandalized as she looked at her companions to see if they were kidding. They returned her gaze and nodded.

"They're leaving?"

Matilda nodded. "Yes. They haven't said they're actually _moving_ out of the Valley, but they certainly are taking a tremendous amount of luggage if it's only a short trip."

Audra's eyes were huge. "Where are they going?"

Antoinette looked very amused. "It's been such a quick decision that none of them have mentioned a final destination. I'm not entirely sure they know themselves."

Audra tried hard to stop from laughing. "All right, tell me everything."

And so began one of the most interesting conversations that Audra had ever participated in as she learned of the gossip surrounding the Van Burens since Bryce had broken their date. She learned that Bryce had previously spoken of a political career…but that he hadn't mentioned it once since their aborted picnic. She learned that his father had hoped to become a partner in the Webster bank, but that Mr. Webster had abruptly turned him down this week.

To her great surprise, she heard about Nick and Heath's _discussion_ with Bryce regarding Audra and the other young ladies in town. Neither of her brothers had mentioned that, and she wasn't certain how she felt about it. Loved certainly, but she didn't need them to fight her battles. Of course, it wasn't only her they spoke up for, and she supposed she would keep that in mind when she told them off.

Her eyes got very lively when Antoinette told her that she used the boys' threat when she dismissed Bryce out of hand, and how much she thoroughly enjoyed herself in the process. "And I suppose I should thank you for that, Audra. I know that we haven't always gotten along, but I really feel that his treatment of you highlighted just what kind of man Bryce Van Buren is. Now every girl in town knows—indeed, the entire Valley does—and his behavior towards you probably saved the rest of us from potentially making fools of ourselves over him."

Audra looked at Antoinette in a new light. "I don't know what to say, Nettie. Oh, I'm sorry, I know you wish to be addressed as Antoinette now. But you just caught me completely by surprise."

Matilda took up the conversation. "We may never know what we escaped with the Van Burens. None of the other bankers in town would discuss partnership with Mr. Van Buren. In truth, they barely spoke to him at all. No father or brother would allow a young lady to go anywhere with Bryce at this point. Mrs. Van Buren and Catherine became persona non grata at all social events. It's a complete turnaround from just a month ago."

America finished it up, "And we realized that your embarrassment at their hands is what started the whole thing. And for that we thank you and salute you."

Audra was momentarily shocked but then started laughing. "I didn't do anything but ride my horse."

Antoinette appeared to see her in a new light as well. "And that was all that needed doing."

Audra looked down at the table. She felt humbled and needed to move to another topic. "So what else are we doing here today?"

Matilda jumped on that, "Oh, we're seeing the Van Burens off."

Audra blinked. "What?"

America checked her watch pin. "Oh, yes, we need to get into position."

Audra was swept up as Antoinette paid for the tea, and Matilda and America quickly moved all of them outside and to the train station. As they headed down the street, Audra looked about and saw almost every girl and lady in town standing on the sidewalks arrayed in their finest outfits. As she passed, there were many hands thrust out along with _thank you's_ being sent her way. "What's going on?"

Ami wrapped her arm around Audra's waist. "Oh, the Van Burens' carriage just passed on its way to the train station. All the ladies in town turned out in their prettiest dresses to give them a memorable send off. And that's what we're doing, too."

Audra looked around at them as they sped down the street. "We're what?"

Antoinette took her hand and pulled her along. "Hurry, we don't want to miss it. Just follow our lead."

Audra shook her head and allowed herself to be moved ahead to the train station. The girls pulled her to the platform and began searching the windows of the train that was about to leave.

Matilda started pointing at the nearest to last car. "There! There they are. Let's all wave goodbye!"

Audra turned with her friends and saw Bryce Van Buren and his family staring back at them. The girls all started waving and calling, "Goodbye!" Audra caught Bryce's eye, and the stare lengthened. She could tell he was looking her over head to toe, and she felt just a little triumphant. She stepped out in front of her friends and offered her finest curtsy. When she returned her gaze to his, he nodded in resignation and turned from the window. She aimed one final glare at each of the other members of the family, turned her back on the train, and walked away with her friends.


End file.
